A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed
by Vivian Wilder
Summary: Five years after Pitch Black suffered a humiliating defeat against the Guardians, he meets a girl that offers him a great gift.


**A Friend in Need**

_**Greetings, Fanfiction! This is my first contribution to this website. After watching Rise of the Guardians, I could not help but feel a little bad for Pitch after he was defeated, so I decided to write a little one-shot where he meets a girl who offers him a very great gift. Enjoy and leave me suggestions on how to improve!**_

Pitch was depressed. He was wallowing in his failures and shame as Nightmares and Fearlings kept close to him, feasting off his fear and worst memories. It was humiliating, as it felt that he was exactly at the same place where he was at the fall of the Golden Age – when he first became the Nightmare King and lost everything dear to him.

At least he was able to leave the lair. It took him nearly five years to overcome his worst fears to be able to walk on the surface again. He yearned for the change, looking for sunlight to lift his spirits. Despite the fact that he could walk in the open again, he was overwhelmed with self-loathing and shame when a group of children ran straight through him; the act itself mocking and taunting Pitch about his mistakes.

Distracted by his negative pondering, the weakened Nightmare King did not realise where he was headed until he heard that dreaded voice again.

"Snow day!" was Jack Frost's first words as he swooped down out of the skies, the wind propelling him forward as he dusted the town of Burgess with the white powdery substance. On instinct, Pitch bolted for the nearest cluster of shadows, which happened to be a dark alley. Ever since his defeat, Pitch tried to make himself as scarce as possible whenever he managed to get out of his lair, trying to evade confrontation with other spirits.

Jack Frost, the arrogant little imp he was, would certainly freeze him the minute he saw Pitch wandering around, even if he was completely defenceless. The only Guardian that spared him any trouble was the Sandman. It was rather strange for Pitch, considering the fact that he was the cause of the Guardian's brief disappearance. But Sandy was forgiving, holding off attacks and always greeted Pitch with his silent gestures whenever they crossed paths.

Pitch waited until he was sure that Jack was out of sight before he continued with his aimless expedition. The people of Burgess still had their fears and uncertainties, and it temporarily gave the Nightmare King the strength to ward off his own rebelling minions, reducing them to mere puffs of smoke. Feeling better, Pitch picked up speed, leaving small trails of black sand in the places where he steps were.

Many people would shun the Bogeyman as an omen of evil, killing children with fear and dragging them down to his lair to turn them into evil beings. But Pitch was not a savage anymore. After gaining control over his sanity since the Fearlings first consumed him, Pitch made a vow to never take a life of a child. He could not bear to watch as other parents suffer as he did when he lost his own beloved daughter. After all, what is fear but a tool of self-preservation? But alas, he became angry at the fact that people saw him nothing more as a monster and a killer. His quest for recognition backfired and made him lose control over his dark servants. That era was known as the Dark Ages, a time of fear and uncertainty. Then the Guardians came along and squashed his plans along with his domination over people. When he tried to do it again five years ago, the results were just as disastrous.

Pitch was sitting on a bench in the park, watching the sky turn into the colours of sunset and pondering when he heard something, a human voice speaking into the darkness.

"Why are you out here by yourself, sir?" the stranger asked. Pitch looked up, and stared right into the face of a young woman. She seemed to be in her twenties, with brown hair and stormy grey eyes.

Pitch was surprised. "Can you see me?" he asked, hope rising in his voice. It has been so long since anyone willingly came up to him to start a conversation.

She laughed. "Of course I can! Why would I ignore you? You seem lonely, and I thought that you could use some company. May I sit here?"

He nodded, gesturing with his hand next to him, still dazed by the fact that a human can see and interact with him. She smiled and sat down. How in the blazes can she see him? Is he imagining all of this? When did he become so mad with depression?

"Who are you?" Pitch asked the girl after five minutes of silence.

"Arabella Smith," she answered with a smile, holding out her hand to him.

"Pitch Black. It's a pleasure to meet you," he replied as he shook her hand. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

"Hang on! Pitch Black, as in, the Bogeyman? The Nightmare King?"

"Yes," he answered carefully, gauging her reaction, "that is who I am."

She looked at him for another minute. Pitch was starting to get uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny when she blurted out: "Where have you been the past five years?"

"Excuse me? What kind of a question is that?" Pitch retorted.

"I'm just curious, you know? I frequently see spirits bobbing around this town, and I have come to meet quite a few of them. But you? It's like you want everyone to think that you don't even exist by the way you act to keep to yourself all the time," Arabella replied, turning her gaze away from him to the changing colours of the clouds.

"How can you possibly believe in spirits in the first place? We are not even supposed to exist to adults!" _Oh, this is just so rich_, he thought, _is this some kind of new punishing mechanism sent from the pits of Hell? Why does the past have to be rubbed into my face all the time?_

"I hate to burst your bubble, Pitch, but I do believe in you guys. Some of my best friends personally know a group of spirits known as the Guardians. They're dedicated to keep guard over little kids, and -"

Pitch took a deep breath to try and calm himself, "And I suppose that all they tell is that how awfully _heroic_ and _wonderful_ the Guardians are, don't they? Do they talk of the evil Bogeyman and how he gains his pleasure from the suffering of others?" he seethed, his anger and frustration barely kept in control.

"Yeah, but that's not my point -" Arabella tried to explain, but Pitch just snapped.

"Doesn't anyone realise that I'm not that kind of person anymore? That all I want is some sort of positive recognition for what I give to the world? Fear is not just a destructive force, you know! It can actually _protect_ someone from harm. Fear is self-preservation!" Pitch was on his feet now, pacing angrily in front of Arabella.

He abruptly stopped moving when he felt Arabella placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. She turned him so that they were facing each other. She swallowed before speaking again, "I don't know the true extent of the pain that you carry. I'm not an expert in psychology, but I can tell when someone has been depressed for too long. I can't offer you an instant cure for your problems, but I can offer you my time, my ears and my friendship."

Pitch eyed her suspiciously, "And what makes you think that I can trust you of all people?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's because you're different from other people that I have met in my years. And you really look like you could use a friend, or someone that would just listen to what you have to say. Everyone deserves a chance to be heard, Pitch," she replied.

"You really think so?" Pitch could not help but still be a bit doubtful over her words.

"I _believe_ so," said Arabella, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"You have no idea how valuable the gift is that you just gave me, Arabella," Pitch whispered, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. Arabella smiled, happy that she could help him.

"Let's start this over, shall we? Hi, my name is Pitch Black and I am on a quest to find healing and friendship.

"I'm Arabella Smith, on a journey to help you with just that. Do you want to come over for tea or something? I have quite a few flavours in stock," she said, looking up at him impishly.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, my dear," the Nightmare King answered, offering his arm to her.

This was the start of a wonderful friendship; he could feel it in his bones as he and Arabella walked to her house, where good tea and long conversations awaited the couple.


End file.
